Instead of putting myself or others in danger, I reply blankly, “The man who’s responsible for holding me hostage. He was arrested out by The Ruins. Do you know whom I’m talking about?”
“Oh, yeah, the mute. You want to talk to him?” The guard on the other end of the line sounds dumbfounded. I feel his judgment through his words.
“Yes,” I command.
“Okay, then, we’ll get him saddled up. He’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”
I shut the phone off and walk to the ladies’ room. I need a break. I need to get my strength back and quickly snap myself into the bad cop role I’m so good at portraying. Between Gabe and myself, I play the part quite well, but who knows how it will go with someone as mysterious and dangerous as Nikolai.
There is no doubt he intimidates me. Hell, he frightens me, and that is saying a lot from someone as callous as I. The monsters normally don’t terrify me, but Nikolai isn’t the normal kind of monster. He’s something else entirely—an enigma. And until I get this conversation over with, I’m bound in the evil clutches he holds so tightly around me.
I flip through my iPod again, trying to find a song to get my nerve built up, and fasten my unwavering police façade back into place. Yet, as my finger scrolls the many selections, I can’t find a single one to get my mind ready to speak to the killer who will be sitting on the other side of the table.
Why does he have me so unnerved? I have encountered horrible killers over my years as a detective, but I have never reacted the way I’m now. Am I losing my mind? Is the stress and pressure I put on myself finally starting to make me crack?
I bend down as the cold water runs from the faucet. Cupping my hands, I pool the water in my palms and splash on my face. The icy water awakens my skin and revives me enough to swallow down the doubt then proceed out the door. How long it will last is the real question.
I can hear the staff-only elevator ding as the transport unit reaches our floor. As they exit, I watch the big and bulky gentlemen cloaked in all black and wearing full-on SWAT gear, minus the helmet. Hovering in the middle of a sea of black is the vibrant orange.
With every step the officers take, more and more glimpses of orange peek out between their bodies, similar to how the sun would peek out between black storm clouds. It’s like this moment in life has slowed completely down, where seconds feel like minutes, and minutes feel like hours. The way he is ushered down the hall is very much like the entry of the psychopathic murderer in a thriller movie.
Slow and purposeful, the officers walk with the methodical killer known only to me as Nikolai Petrov. He looks like the beautiful assassin he is.
It only takes a second for me to meet his eyes, and then I’m locked in a stare down with him. His icy blue eyes freeze my blood and are full of devious plans. They penetrate my soul, puncturing me from deep within, as we only look at each other. If I were to look away, I would still feel the dangerous aura he exudes. This is how deeply he looks at me.
My mind flips back to the last moment we shared before Gabe slapped him in handcuffs. I was trapped under his body, pinned down. His pelvis was holding mine firmly to the floor as my wrists were restrained by his hands. The pain from the gun being pressed to my temple was nothing compared to the electrical current surging through every inch of my body. The charges awakened my desire for him. His lips were pressed to mine, his body blanketing mine. It left me entranced.
As I stare at him now, my traitorous emotions stir it all up again. My body begins to warm with a rush of exciting terror, and I can’t suppress it. My veins rapidly boil, lava-ignited tingles rushing through every inch of my body. My mouth slightly opens. My breaths catch in my throat just from looking at his flawless, structured face.
His cheeks are covered in more than a day’s worth of whiskers, but he looks sexy and rugged. His jaw is chiseled, his black hair is tousled, and from this distance, you can see the sprinkles of gray throughout. It is normally combed neatly to the side like a distinguished assassin, but now he looks like the rogue, underground killer. His eyes are icy cold, mirroring the wolf I remember.
However, it’s the knowing smirk that graces his face that sends me plummeting back down to earth. That small smile is a chilling sight, ripping me from the heat he commands from my body and sending me slamming back to reality. It’s the push I need to extinguish any other feeling toward this bastard except hate.
I hate him. I hate what he did to me. I hate that he’s trying to wield his control over me once again. I will do as he asks. I will sit across from him and listen to whatever he has to say about the night my father was killed, but that doesn’t mean I will agree with a single word. He doesn’t know anything about me. I wasn’t the one divulging my past. That was his mistake, not mine. Whatever he feels I need to know is probably a last-ditch effort to keep me quiet for a little while longer.
Nikolai is escorted into the interrogation room just as my feet decide to move. I pull the hood off my head and straighten my shoulders. The music in my iPod is silenced as I shove it in my bag then pull my badge from my front pocket. The feeling of doubt I experienced earlier dissolves rapidly as I get myself in the correct mindset to play his dangerous game. I shake off the terror, the desire, and morbid curiosities of feeling his lips pressed to mine and I walk in the room behind the transport team.
Nikolai shuffles on his feet, his ankles and wrists bound by the steel restraints. The team guides him to a metal folding chair, unfasten his wrists from the steel bonds around his waist, and look over at me. I nod, letting them know I’m okay by myself, and then they leave, closing the door behind them.
Before I turn around, I take a moment to release a breath and roll my shoulders back again. I will destroy this man. If it’s the last thing I do, I will make sure he suffers from everything he has done to me and the two men he tortured. If I make myself a single promise, it will be to see him walk to his demise on Washington’s death row.
CHAPTER FOUR
Nikolai
August 9, 2015 4:25 p.m.
There she is—my pawn in the game of revenge. She unknowingly exposed her secret to me, and for that, I will be forever grateful. She’ll be the piece of insurance I need to get within inches of Stravinsky.
She looks beautiful. Her messy blonde hair is balled on top of her head, exposing her long, gorgeous neck. Her breasts are hidden behind an oversized sweatshirt, but I remember them well. When I pressed my body to hers, I felt how round and firm they are. Just thinking about them stirs my body awake now.
She stands in front of me, stone cold and ready to kill. Her mouth is set in a firm line of hate, but her lips are still the same: full, succulent, and soft. The urge to yank her face to my lap and see those perfect lips wrapped around my dick makes me harder still. Yet it’s her murderous glare that pushes the corner of my mouth up. This is going to be fun.
Finally, she speaks.
“What do you want …?” Her mouth starts to say my first name, but then she snaps it shut.
I’m pleased to see Manny got it through to her. I will have no other choice than to take drastic measures to keep my information private. I’m still infuriated with myself for allowing my walls to break down. I was in a peculiar state of mind last night, one I don’t ever remember being in before. For now, I will chalk it up to mourning the loss of my brother and his family. Even if I know it was more than that, I refuse to allow myself to really acknowledge it.
I adjust in the chair and place my cuffed wrists on the table. The long steel tether to my ankles clanks against the wooden table as I get as comfortable as one can in my position. I nudge my head forward and motion with my eyes what I want her to do. Before I do any speaking, I need to take certain precautions to avoid my secrets going any further than between the two of us.
She turns and looks at the mounted video camera attached to the ceiling. Turning back to me, she rolls her eyes then pulls her chair to the corner. The metal legs scrape against the tile floor as she drags the chair
. Josslyn stands on the seat and pulls the plug from the video camera. The red power light diminishes and finally disappears. Then she comes back to the table and sits down.
“Better?” she snaps.
“Your bag—pull out the contents one at a time and lay them out on the table.”
“Why?”
“If you want me to talk, I need to ensure my privacy.” One can never be too careful with detectives, especially ones as clever as Josslyn.
“What if I don’t give a shit what you have to say? Then what?” She puts her hands on the table and folds her fingers together. It’s her attempt to look relaxed and aloof. However, we both know differently.
“We both know that’s not true.” I motion with my finger to her bag sitting on the floor and repeat, “Pull out the contents one at a time and lay them in front of me.”
Rolling her eyes again, Josslyn unzips her bag and starts pulling items out. The first is her 9mm pistol and a .38 revolver. Nice, she’s prepared with not only one, but two weapons. She doesn’t put either of them on the table, presumably fearing I will reach across the table and take them from her, which I could easily do, but that is not in my plans.
“Pull the clip and release the bullet from the chamber. Do the same for the revolver. Then set them on the floor, but leave the ammunition on the table.”
As I demand, she releases the clip and pulls the chamber back then does as instructed. Then she repeats the process with the .38, as well.
“Good, now what’s the next item?”
She pulls out her badge. I motion with my finger to leave it on the table then repeat the process with her notebook, wallet, rubber gloves, and keys.
“Give me a piece,” I command when she pulls out a pack of spearmint gum from her bag. She looks at me incredulously then pulls it from the pack. “Now unwrap it.”
Josslyn tosses the stick of gum to me, and it falls in front of my hands. “Unwrap it yourself, asshole.”
I do like it when she’s feisty.
I ignore her comment and nod toward the bag again. She huffs out an irritated breath. The fallen strands of hair around her face dance in the air, and I inhale deeply. She smells exactly as I remember. It’s a concoction of a seductive sea scent and sweet jasmine. It fills the air and sets off delicious sparks all over my skin. When she was in the warehouse, the smell mixed pleasantly with the dirty air. However, now that the additional smell is gone, her scent is even more intoxicating and making it harder by the second not to devour her.
She harshly pulls her cell phone and iPod from the bag then sets them on the table. The sound of the devices hitting the wood yanks me from the perfume-filled fog.
“Hand over the iPod.”
“Why?” Her brow furrows.
I don’t satisfy her with an answer, and she ends up pulling the ear buds out, placing them on the table, and passing the device over to me. I pick up the thin electronic, and with a simple jerk of my hands, I slam the center of it down on the edge of the table, snapping it in half.
“What the fuck!”
“Your phone—pass it over.”
“No!” she shouts in an, angry tone.
“Fine, take the battery out and set it on the table.”
She complies, pulling the back off her phone and yanking the small, flat battery out.
“You know, this is a lot of work to simply have a conversation. Maybe you should trust that I won’t say anything so we can get this over with. I’m fully aware of what will happen if I do say something, and I don’t particularly like sitting this close to you.”
I only smirk, knowing it’s a lie. She is attracted to me. The moment I fell on top of her and kissed her, she was ready and willing to let me go further. I heard her moan out in pleasure and felt her relax her legs slightly. She opened up and let me fall between them.
“I don’t trust anyone, Josslyn, but we are almost done.” And I have to admit I’m looking forward to the next part. “I need to be sure you’re not wearing a wire. Stand up, take off your sweatshirt, and pull up your shirt.”
“Fuck you!” she shouts back at me with pure hate in her blue eyes. The purplish bruise on the side of her face can’t even distract me from the daggers she shoots from her eyes.
“Josslyn, I’m sure you know what’s at stake here. Do I need to remind you why you were asked to come in here today?”
A small glint of defeat slides over her tough façade for a second before she hides it once again. She knows she can’t control this conversation, and the mere fact is eating her alive.
Abruptly, she slides her chair back. The metal feet scrape the tile floor; only, this time, it sends a chill down my spine. The sound is similar to nails scratching down a blackboard, grating on my sanity. No, it was more than that. In many of the prisons I found myself in, there would be asshole guards that liked to play little mind games with us prisoners. One in particular liked to scrape his personal fork across all the metal doors where the key lock was placed. Needless to say, that man is dead now. A prisoner can only take so much . . .
She stands to her feet and grabs the bottom of her sweatshirt. A sliver of skin is exposed on her lower abdomen, forcing my eyes there. The bun in her hair goes askew when she yanks the sweatshirt over her head. Tossing it aside, she puts her hands on her hips, standing like petulant child, and tries to swallow down the anger.
“Now what?”
“Pull up your shirt.”
Huffing out another annoyed breath, she pulls her small T-shirt up.
Her body is as I pictured. Her full breasts are covered in a cream-colored lace bra and as ample as I assumed. I move my eyes downward looking at her trim, firm stomach. The small ripples of muscle in her abdomen clearly prove she keeps herself in impeccable shape. The waistband of her pants falls dangerously low under her bellybutton, and I can feel my mouth water at the thought of how delicious she would taste if I were to run my lips across her silky skin, nipping and savoring every inch.
Her sexy form almost distracts me from the deep, purple bruises on her side. We exchanged more than passion when I held her in my arms. She threw her punches, and I threw mine. I smile inside, knowing when she looks at her naked body in the mirror, she’ll only see the imprint I left on her skin.
I motion with my finger for Josslyn to turn around. It’s my final assessment before I tell her the information I know about her father.
The sight of a woman’s back is one feature I adore. I have to admit it is one of Josslyn’s sexiest attributes. Her curves are so utterly mesmerizing. From the way her upper back is sculpted to the inward swerves of her waist down to her full, womanly hips, she is the perfect female form. There is no inch of her that disputes this. She is supple and soft in all the perfect areas yet strong and hard in all the others.
I trail my eyes down the middle of her back where her spine curves and bumps under her delicate, soft skin. My fingers itch to lightly touch each and every swell.
She abruptly yanks her shirt back in place, turns around, and places her hands on her perfect hips. “Are you done eye fucking me? I’m ready to get this over with.”
Her crass comment sparks my dark side. I want nothing more than to show her what fucking is really about. It appears to me that she needs a good, hard fuck to control that mouth of hers. However, that will never happen between the two of us. At least, not yet. I can’t allow sex to take away what I have in store for our near future. She’ll be possessed by me when the time is right and Stravinsky is dead. Until then, it’s time to move on to the real matters.
CHAPTER FIVE
Josslyn
August 9, 2015 4:42 p.m.
“Now that the formality is over … Hello, detective,” Nikolai so coolly says as he bows his head toward me. “You look well, considering …” The sly, snake-like grin falls from his face. He is smugly hinting at my bruised face and battered up midsection. Asshole.
To be alone with him toggles my emotions from one end of the spectrum to the other. It’s like
a slow ticking metronome with each movement of the needle sending me closer to the edge.
The sight of him has me spinning just as much as the cool air that filters his intoxicating scent across the table. It’s a musk so very new to me yet something that feels unnervingly familiar.
Twelve hours have passed since I was last in his presence, and even then, the same feelings filled me. However, the eerie tone saturated all over his words is just as cold as his icy blue eyes. It’s chilling. I’m frightened to be this close to him, but something deep inside of me wants to get closer, wants to feel the heat of his body on top of mine.
Nikolai looks as dangerously beautiful as when I left him hours ago, but instead of his sleek, black suit, he is wearing a bright orange prison uniform. Instead of his hands holding a pistol, they are resting calmly on the table, bound together by steel handcuffs. Regardless, what still remains is the psychotic smirk he masterfully displays when he wants something.
That must be why I’m here, why he wants to share information about the night my father died. He wouldn’t just give me the details because he wanted to make amends. No, this is Nikolai Petrov, and there is only one way he would give me anything: mercilessly.
“I understand Manny filled you in on why I wanted to see you, correct?” he says, breaking through my reverie.
I adjust my body in the cold, unforgiving chair and sit up with more purpose. I swallow down the hate and passion for him then coolly reply, “He mentioned something about my father, yeah.”
Away with You (The Revenge Series Book 2) Page 4
